


Somethings don't change. Some do.

by Qualyn



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Pre-Slash, if you prefer to look at it that way
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-26
Updated: 2013-01-26
Packaged: 2017-11-26 22:28:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/655074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Qualyn/pseuds/Qualyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My entry for Johnlock Grab Bag Challenge. Prompt by daisybelle was : "So, how long have you been together?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Somethings don't change. Some do.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [daisybelle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/daisybelle/gifts).



> This is my gift for [daisybelle](http://daisybellewrites.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr.
> 
> I first thought of making an established relationship fic, but my muse thought otherwise and well, here it is.
> 
> I hope you like it, even though it probably isn't what you were expecting.
> 
>   
> **Not beta-ed!**  
>  \-----x-----  
> 

Silence.

Silence reigned 221 B's living room like a tyrant.  
Gone were the not so uncomfortable silences between them and it all was, as Sherlock obviously thought, John's fault.

Ever since the Sebastian Fiasco Sherlock seemed to have become harder and harder to live with.

John shifted his position in his armchair, sliding down a bit and stretching his legs in front of him, in a way his toes almost touched Sherlock's armchair and muted the telly.  
He knew why Sherlock was acting that way, and even though he did feel a bit guilty over it, he wouldn't apologise for it.

He didn't feel they were friends.

Well, at least not yet. Friendship takes time. Time and pacience. Learning. You need to have pacience to take the time you need to _learn_ the other person. Time he still hadn't spent with Sherlock.

He looked over to his slumbering flatmate. He was on the sofa making a great impression of a corpse in a coffin as usual. He could tell him he was in his "mind palace" as many times as he liked, but John would still insist that was an excuse to take a nap.

He frowned as he thought of their days. Everything seemed to be the same, but there was some sort of a barier between them now. Sherlock seemed to hesitate sometimes. He didn't introduce him to someone else like he used to, he waited for John to do it himself.

As long as John didn't take too long to do so. If he did, he'd nod in his direction and simply say "Doctor Watson."

Things were a bit off and he didn't like it. Things would probably just get worse with time if they kept pretending nothing happened. And then it would simply be unbearable and John would have to look for another flat. No, that wouldn't do.

He'd be the adult and speak to Sherlock about it.

After all, someone had to make the first step and he wasn't seeing Sherlock being the one doing so.

Just as he nodded to himself, satisfied with his decision, Sherlock suddenly moved. He seemed to have jerked in surprise but he immediately stretched like a cat, no doubt to make it seem as if it had all been on purpose. Lazy git.

"I'm bored."

John rolled his eyes. Somethings never changed.

 

  
\-----x-----  


Sherlock was angry.

With him.

It seemed to be a trend now.

Sherlock thought the case was boring. John wasn't surprised anymore at how Sherlock simply didn't care about the victim, possible victim _s_.

John didn't care. He couldn't stand Sherlock's "I'm bored" every 5 minutes or less. So he, since he had been the one picking up the mobile when Lestrade called, told the DI they'd be there as soon as possible.

Sherlock didn't agree and did put up a fight.

But John was tired of it all and simply threatned to break his microscope it that would be what it would take for him to shut up.

Unsurprisingly, it did.

And that's how John found himself sitting in a cab with a moody, not-at-all-pouting 5-year-old detective.

John didn't really feel like going to a pub, on _game night_ , but since the last victim had been killed in such a day and dressed with one of the teams shirts, it would have to be.

As soon as the cab stopped Sherlock opened the door and climbed out as fast as he could, obviously, leaving John behind to pay. John sighed, for what seemed the 100th time thad day, and did so, slowly climbing out of the cab and joining his annoyed flatmate at the pub's door.

 

  
\-----x-----  


The pub was crowded.

Not a surprise, but still, it would have been nice to be able to sit.

Despite not wanting to be there, Sherlock got into his "case mode" as soon as he stepped in.

He made a bee line to the bar, there were people _everywherez_ , and after some not to gentle pushing, he settled, leaning against it, ignoring the barman that asked what he would like to drink.

With some pushes of his own John got there and squeezed himself between Sherlock and some other bloke, and asked for a beer as soon as the barman saw him. He was sure he would need it.

Sherlock, leaning with his back to the bar, seemed to be scanning the crowd, no doubt looking out for potential victims and the murder.

John did try to d the same, but he didn't kid himself thinking he would catch something Sherlock would not, and so he drank his beer while watching the game on the telly, but still looking over the crowd once in a while.

Sherlock was getting restless, he kept moving, crossing and uncrossing his arms, and since there wasn't much space anywhere, their arms were touching. Well, bumping now.

Just as John was about to snap at Sherlock to stand still, for God's sake, you're not a child, Sherlock suddenly tensed.

Curious, John leaned forward and peeked at Sherlock's other side. What he saw made him want to snigger.

The git was being chatted up by a lovely young woman.

Chuckling to himself, John started to lean backwards again, ready to go back to crowd searching, since his flatmate seemed to be rather occupied at the moment, lucky bastard, but the way that Sherlock didn't stop tensing didn't feel right.

Confused, John looked at Sherlock's face.

The poor bugger had the most uncomfortable expression on his face John had ever seen so far.

The young lady, Janet she said, couldn't seem to keep eyes on Sherlock's face. Poor girl. She seemed such a shy person and she just had to go to Sherlock of all people. Not surprising either. John wasn't blind, he knew Sherlock was the type of man women seemed to drool over. Janet would probably be listening to Sherlock's version of "not interested, sorry" version soon.

Just as he was about to nudge Sherlock to say something, honestly he was just standing there, the so called high functioning sociopath's posture changed. John looked up at him and saw that his face was the usual mask of impassiveness, his back straight and his eyes narrowed. He looked like all the times he's preparing to-

_Oh no,_ John thought, _he'll most likely make her cry._

The poor girl had done nothing. Just didn't pick up the best person to try to start something with, and John wouldn't just stand there and watch Sherlock tear her down. He was sure to make scathing comments about one thing or the other.

Janet was looing at his face now, in the middle of their one-sided conversation, when Sherlock opened his mouth. He had to stop him.

John cleared his throat and called his name with a stern voice.

"Sherlock."

He clearly didn't expect it, and startled, he turned and looked at John, blinking in confusion.

John thought his face was so comical he nearly burst into laughter, but Janet was also looking at him now, and was looking at them with a raised eyebrow.

"John, I-"  
What the hell was he going to say ? Try to explain himself, as if he was a cheating boyfriend caught in the act ? The thought only made John want to laugh even more and he wasn't looking at his flatmate's face on purpose now.  
"Oh, I see." They both turned to look at Janet. She a slightly ashamed expression on her face. "I didn't know, I'm sorry."

Now they were both looking at her in confusion.

She seemed to compose herself before their eyes, smiled and asked:

"So, how long have you been together?"

  
\-----x-----  


Time seemed to stop for John.

Sherlock tensed once again.

This wouldn't end up well. Sherlock would surely snap now and they weren't looking out for any possible murders.

And then, as if a light was turned on inside his brain, John realised this was the perfect opportunity. The opportunity to try to make up for Sherlock, since he was still obviously upset by the Sebastian Fiasco, even though he pretended he wasn't. Which reminded the doctor he still had to talk to Sherlock about it.

But he also remembered what he had decided to do. That he'd be the one making the first step in their friendship.

Sherlock was no doubt expecting John to deny it. Of course he was, he did it in the past and he had no reason to expect otherwise.

After all, John also expected Sherlock to do the same.

But somehow, the thought of denying some sort of bond between Sherlock and him to a stranger didn't feel right.

The girl was a stranger. They would, most likely, never see her again. It would do no harm.

Plus, it would surely surprise Sherlock again.

Decision made, John moved to stand at Sherlock's side and lied through his teeth.

Anything could happen next. He just hoped they would be able to laugh when looking back at this moment.  
"Oh, a couple of years."

 


End file.
